- Not having to endure the temporary insanity that afflicts every woman in the build-up to, and on the day of, their wedding.
- Not having to decipher women's use of the words 'fine' and 'nothing'.
- Not having to go to Woodies/Atlantic Homecare/B&Q.
- Indulging sloth.
- No doilies, candles, bed cushions or throws.
- Not having to explain unsanctioned withdrawals from joint bank accounts.
- A relatively full head of hair with only a smattering of grey.
- The ability to eat microwaved dinners on your lap in front of, and in control of, the television.
- A lack of clean clothes.
- Having to organise and pay your own bills.
- Not being able to exercise the family tradition of inflicting the middle name of St John (pronounced 'sinjun') on your eldest son -- a tradition in danger of dying out unless your marital status changes.
- Patronising advice.
- Pitying looks.
- The increasing fear of being discovered dead on your couch, clad in nothing but tracksuit bottoms, with a microwaved chicken balti on your lap and the TV showing The Hills.